Taking Stock

I don't know if it's because this year has been so full of change or if it's because my life has just gotten a lot quieter because of the changes, but my mind is in a constant churn right now.

I will spend hours going over and over things of the past -- trying to ferret out where I made mistakes or when things shifted or trying to figure out what I missed, what served me, what did not.

Funny where this has led. I've drawn some conclusions, come up with some life lessons/philosophies... And, news flash: life is short.

• Also, I'm not perfect. Nobody is perfect.
• Mistakes have been made. 
• Love is all that it's cracked up to be -- and more. 
• Forgive yourself. In fact, forgive everyone.
• Kids grow up too fast.
• Worry is useless, none of that stuff ever happens. The stuff that does happen, you never see coming. And you'll deal with it because you have to.
• You can't change the past, but it can inform the present, and you can do better now.

I like this stuff, but really all this churning brain stuff fell apart this week in this one moment when my 10-year old friend/yoga student, who is so sweet and serious; he's mature and beautiful, spiritual and deep. I often forget he's 10. (Honestly, he may be 9, I think he's about 105 most of the time). We often discuss philosophy, meditation, spirituality, life, death and dogs.

That day, we were discussing the benefits/deficits of weight training at his (real) age, and I suggested he get online and do some research on the subject, and he said, "OK, I'm going to be writing a letter to Santa tonight, so I'll check it out then." 

He's not 105. He's 10. He's right here, right now. Nothing else. Matters.

In those few moments the churning stopped.  I was right there in the room with these marvelous young people who share their yoga with me, and I realized the past is the past. It's done. I did the best I could at the time just like I try to today and REALLY... my advice to myself and pretty much everyone:

Stop worrying, be authentic, do some yoga, take a walk, call your mother, hug your kid, walk your dog, spend time with your partner -- write a letter to Santa. Life is happening -- right here, right now.